Three For All

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Three For All

  ISBN 9781419917615

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Three For All Copyright © 2008 Cindy Spencer Pape

  Edited by Helen Woodall.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication October 2008

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Three For All

  Cindy Spencer Pape

  Dedication

  Once again, this one’s for my own hero, who keeps me as happy as any two men could.

  With huge thanks for all the support from my writing friends who encouraged me to—ahem—expand my horizons. As usual, you were right. I had a hell of a time writing this story, and hope the readers have as much fun reading it.

  Chapter One

  Eislinn crawled on her hands and knees along the hedge of the Mount Airy estate with her digital video camera tucked carefully into the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. With her Fae glamour in place, she was unlikely to be seen if the pseudo-coven was full of human wannabes but on the off chance that one of them really was magic, she stuck to the shadows.

  As she closed in on the bonfire, her eyes took in the black hooded robes of the participants, the black and red candles and the very naked young man who stood at the point of the inverted pentagram outlined with what was probably table salt. Her informant had been correct. Leading the ritual was golden boy and Philadelphia hometown hero Jason Whitbeck, now the star quarterback for an Ivy League university. Apparently he was bored while home on summer vacation.

  She wiggled into a seated position amid the shrubs and lifted her camera. Her bosses at the local news were going to love this. With luck it would even go to the network feed and make the national reports. She only hoped the idiots didn’t accidentally get it right and summon a real demon with their ridiculous chanting and—she sniffed the air—illegal incense. Good thing elves were more or less immune to marijuana. Otherwise she’d be getting one hell of a contact buzz, even from twenty yards away.

  No, she was more worried about the possibility of a genuine demon popping up into that badly warded circle. Not the most predictable of creatures and definitely not something a bunch of drugged out and testosterone poisoned little rich boys ought to be fooling around with. Demons didn’t really come from some human-defined hell, of course, but they did hail from a number of decidedly unpleasant realities. Sometimes they decided they liked being in this dimension and made it a point to kill the witless fools who might have the power to send them home.

  Whitbeck the quarterback lifted an ornate gold-colored goblet into the air and the chant reached a crescendo. He sipped whatever probably illegal substance was in the cup, then tossed the dregs into the fire. Slivers of black smoke began to dance in the warm summer air above the center of the pentagram. Then they began to coalesce into a shape.

  Oh fuck!

  The morons had succeeded. Now she wouldn’t be able to show the footage, even if they all managed to get out alive. One of the major rules nonhumans agreed to when living in the mortal realm was not disclosing each other to the masses. It only made sense. If demons could exist, so could elves, along with vampires, werewolves, whatever. Expose one and everybody’s cover would be blown. With a sigh she switched off her camera and moved up into a squat, in case she had to run.

  The tendrils of mist twined together to form a shape that was roughly humanoid—at least it had two arms, two legs and one head. That was pretty much where its resemblance to a person ended. Long blood-red horns curled out of a forehead that elongated into a bovine snout. Puffs of smoke emerged from enlarged nostrils and curled up to veil a pair of fiery eyes, lit from within. One boy in the circle screamed and looked like he tried to break away but the ones on either side of him grabbed his wrists and held him in place, maintaining the integrity of the circle.

  Whitbeck gave the creature an arrogant smirk. “Demon, I command thee—tell me thy name.”

  Eislinn rolled her eyes. Please. Like using archaic speech patterns made any difference to something that could rip you in half with its toes.

  The demon laughed and the sound chilled even Eislinn’s bones. Judging by a faint whiff of scent, at least one of the idiot boys had wet himself. Good, she thought waspishly. Maybe next time he’ll stay home—if he lives.

  The demon stared down the swaggering young man. “You really think you have the power to command me?”

  “I summoned you,” Jason declared. He set the cup down and picked up a wicked looking blade from the plastic milk crate they’d been using as an altar. “I can banish you as well. And while you are here, you must obey my commands.”

  The demon laughed again and this time even Eislinn had to squeeze her legs together. Leave it to these losers to have summoned exactly the wrong sort of demon. They were so toast. She tried to ease back into the bushes, thinking frantically about whom she could call for help. These boys deserved humiliation for this fiasco but they didn’t all deserve to die. And while she could help, she doubted she could take this demon on all by herself.

  Two names occurred to her but before she could pull her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, things got worse.

  “Tell you what, little man,” the demon leered at Jason. “You let me out of this circle without a fight and I might let you live.”

  Even from her vantage point in the bushes, she could feel the demon’s power reaching out, testing the circle. One thickly muscled arm reached out and she saw the two-inch long talons extend. Then a beatific grin came over that monstrous face. “Found it. Too late for you now, buddy boy. You’re mine.” He cast his gaze around the rest of the circle. “As for the rest of you, I’ll give you a sporting head start. One, two three, run!” The final word boomed like thunder in the still night air.

  Most of the crowd was smart enough to cut and run. A few hesitated but were pulled away by their friends. Jason, on the other hand, stood with his athame raised. She could see him tremble and rivulets of sweat dripped down his chest in the moonlight. He didn’t move. Moron!

  The demon waved his hand and the salt forming one point of the pentagram drifted away on a puff of wind. With a manic grin, the demon sauntered to the point and easily stepped out of the circle. Jason continued to stand his ground.

  Crap. She wasn’t much of a fighter but she couldn’t sit here and let the kid die. And she couldn’t let the demon loose on Philadelphia in general. She stood and set her camera under the bush then apported in her rapier—which she hadn’t used in actual combat since the sixteenth century.

  The demon sauntered up to Jason with its talons raised. “Time to say goodnight Gracie.”

  Hmmm, apparently
this particular demon had been on Earth before. The kid wasn’t old enough to get the reference. He stared in blank horror at the being which had broken his circle. Eislinn raised her rapier and stepped forward.

  Before she could reach the circle, a shadow detached itself from ancient oak tree behind Whitbeck and inserted itself between the kid and the demon. The demon snarled and took a swing. So did the shadow—an even bigger shape and one that Eislinn recognized all too well.

  “Lothan,” she whispered, as metal whistled through the air and the demon’s head was separated from its body. It bounced in a grotesque barrel roll and landed at Eislinn’s feet. She swallowed and looked up at the apparition standing sword in hand over the headless husk.

  Lothan von Deimos groaned and shook his head. His own demonic shape shimmered back into his human guise, complete with impeccably cut Italian suit. The wickedly curved scimitar disappeared. His silvery eyes rolled as he looked over at Eislinn.

  “Eislinn. I should have known you’d be here.”

  She opened her mouth and started to speak but before she could, another man ran into the yard, though this one used the gate—sort of. He’d put one hand on the top rail and leapt over it without breaking stride. Oh great, now the cops had shown up.

  “What the hell happened here?” he began. Then his gaze too was drawn to where she stood. “Aw, fuck.” Detective Callum Daly frowned. “Eislinn. I should have known. What on earth are you doing here?”

  * * * * *

  “I had nothing to do with it,” she argued for the third—or maybe sixth—time. “I had a tip that our boy wonder was up to something stupid. It didn’t occur to me that the moron would actually be able to summon a cockroach, let alone a demon.”

  Lothan snorted and took another slice of double-pepperoni pizza. The three had retired to his home after they’d cleaned up the remains of the demon. While Lothan had incinerated the corpse, Callum had bespelled Jason’s memory. All the kid would remember in the morning was a bad drug trip and a botched ritual—and a stern warning from the Philadelphia PD. Hopefully he could convince his followers of the same and attribute their memories of the demon to drug-induced mass hysteria.

  Now that things were over, both men were treating Eislinn like she was the delinquent. Never mind that she’d only been a witness. Both of them seemed to think that the whole mess was somehow all her fault.

  “Well it damn near ripped his heart out,” Callum reminded her. “And yours would have been next. Gravaki demons are fond of hearts, human or otherwise and the fresher the better. I doubt that little pig-sticker of yours would have done much to dissuade him.”

  “That’s what that thing was?” She swallowed a sip of wine a little too fast and coughed. “No wonder it had no trouble breaking that pathetic excuse for a circle.” Gravaki was one of the nastier planes and the rogues from their culture were among the fiercest demons that ever crossed over to the mortal realm. She’d never encountered one before and goddess willing, she never would again.

  “It was.” Lothan was an expert on the various races of demon—his own and the others. He also had a sense for when one was entering this plane and he’d been charged by his people to maintain control, which is of course why he’d shown up when he did. “When will you learn not to mess around with things that can kill you, Eis? You’re six hundred years old. When are you going to grow up?”

  Callum raised a sandy eyebrow and turned his piercing green gaze on Lothan. The two had clearly met before but didn’t know each other well. That made sense, given that Callum was a member of the city’s special paranormal police team, while Lothan did pretty much the same job on a private level. Both were charged with keeping paranormal rule-breakers in line and out of the newspapers. The elf and the demon were cut from very similar cloth, really. They were both smart and brave and honorable and had each, at one point, been the love of Eislinn’s life. And apparently neither of them had quite twigged to that fact. Though now it seemed like the shit was about to hit the fan.

  “Sounds like you know our star reporter pretty well, von Deimos. How exactly are you two acquainted?”

  Eislinn squirmed. Nothing like having two ex-boyfriends in one room. Especially when they were the two she’d never really gotten over. It was bad enough that both of them were in Philadelphia at the same time. Ever since Callum had shown up here a year ago, she’d wondered if he’d been following her. She could have lived a few more centuries without them getting together and ganging up on her. Unless—she felt her pussy clench. No, she was pretty sure that neither of them would ever go for it. They were both centuries-old alpha males. Neither would be willing to share her—would they? If only for this one night?

  “Oh the lovely Eislinn and I are old friends, elf.” Lothan had an eye for races and he’d pegged Callum immediately as one of the Fae, just like Eislinn. “Old enough that I’m tempted to tie her up and paddle her backside for putting herself in danger tonight.”

  His heated gaze was making Eislinn sweat. Her nipples hardened under her hoodie and her jeans were getting soaked. It had been almost five years since she and Lothan had been together and she hadn’t had a really good spanking since. She had to maintain some pride, though, so she held her ground. “Sure you are, big guy. Promises, promises.”

  “I’ll help,” Callum offered. His grass-green eyes were shot through with golden sparks—a sure sign that he was aroused to either anger or passion. “I’ve been trying to get her to stop taking stupid risks for two hundred years. And think how pretty she’ll look with that little ass all red from both of our hands.”

  Eislinn’s breath stopped in her throat. Had Callum just suggested…

  He had.

  Eislinn sagged back into her chair, suddenly limp with frantic arousal. Her gaze darted back and forth between the two males. Both were tall and powerful but otherwise as different as night and day. Callum was whipcord lean with sandy hair that barely covered his pointed ears. Lothan was as broad as a tree trunk with coal black skin and fangs in his demon form. In his human guise he had a dark chocolate complexion and straight black hair to his waist. In either form his eyes were an eerie intense silver. Right now they were thoughtful and looking back at Callum. One black eyebrow rose.

  “You don’t have a problem with me being a demon?” Elves were known for being racist, elitist pricks, which is one of the reasons Eislinn spent most of her time in the human realm. Life was much more fun when you mixed things up.

  “No.” Callum stood and held out a hand to Lothan. “Not a bit.”

  Eislinn goggled at the flare of attraction. It wasn’t all for her, though she could tell plenty of it was. She’d had fabulous chemistry with each of them. But what was really turning her on right now—almost to the point of pain—was the strong magnetism that she sensed between the two men. Both were hard and full beneath their trousers as they gazed at one another. Then they both turned to look at her with blatant desire. Each held out his free hand, inviting her to close the triangle. It was all she could do not to pant. Her hands trembled as she lifted them. Her hands were small and pale and she whimpered in arousal at the sight of them being engulfed, one in Callum’s calloused tan fingers and the other in Lothan’s ebony grip.

  “Upstairs,” Lothan muttered thickly. Eislinn saw the taut line of his jaw and gloried in it. He was as turned on as she was.

  “Hell yeah.” Callum licked his lips and tugged Eislinn to her feet. She felt the energy that prickled along his skin. He was primed and ready too.

  For a second Eislinn wondered if maybe she had been killed by the demon and she’d somehow found her way to heaven.

  Chapter Two

  The stairs weren’t wide enough for the three of them so Lothan expedited the process of getting to his bedroom by picking up Eislinn and tossing her over his shoulder. She was tall but so slim she weighed hardly anything. He’d waited five long years to get her back into his bed, he wasn’t taking any chances now. He was damn attracted to the other elf as well and
was looking forward to seeing Eis taking the other man’s cock as well as his own. His race wasn’t typically hung up on the arithmetic of love and sex. As long as all parties were consenting adults, no one cared what went on. He loved Eislinn but he liked and respected Callum and he lusted after them both.

  Callum was right on his heels as he led the way into his bedroom. He mentally flicked a dozen or so fat white candles alight and set Eislinn on her feet beside the bed.

  “You still have the bed we bought,” she said, somewhat unsteadily. The wrought iron canopied bed was big enough that the mattress and bedding had to be custom-made. It would easily hold the three of them with plenty of room to play. In the back of his mind Lothan wondered if this was perhaps the reason they’d commissioned the monstrosity. Had they sensed that what had been missing in their relationship was a third party?

  Callum looked around and nodded in approval but his heated gaze lingered on Lothan instead of on the space. “Nice.”

  Eislinn gulped and Lothan smelled the rush of cream that further soaked her panties. Gods, he could practically taste her on his tongue, even after all this time. His own wool slacks were way too tight, threatening to cut off his balls if he didn’t get out of them soon. A glance down showed him that Callum was in the same state. Lothan hardened even further at the thought of taking the other man’s cock in his mouth as well.

  “Time to get you naked, my lady,” Callum reached up and yanked Eislinn’s sweatshirt over her head. He had exactly the right touch with her, Lothan noted. Rough but careful enough not to damage her.

  Lothan took a second to admire her small firm breasts, their nipples tightly beaded against the turquoise silk of her bra. Then he took the waistband of her jeans in both hands and ripped. The fabric gave right along the zipper, all the way to her crotch, revealing a very wet scrap of turquoise silk—almost exactly the color of Eislinn’s eyes.